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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27901705">red strings filling my nights</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/painful_lullabies/pseuds/mayonaka'>mayonaka (painful_lullabies)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Anyways, Bye now, LATER, M/M, One Shot, Red String of Fate, SO, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, and i just wanna post it ??, but oh well, enjoy the fanfic, god idk ok, i wrote this in like 2019, red string au, soulmate, yes i realise this is kinda unfinished</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:48:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,118</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27901705</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/painful_lullabies/pseuds/mayonaka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>zak carder has a secret.</p><p>and maybe this secret will be the death of him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>red strings filling my nights</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zak Carder was a very outgoing person. He’d always be up for a good game of soccer. He had many acquaintances, all of which who would go to him for help with anything. His grades were spectacular, and he had never missed a day of school.</p><p>However, Zak Carder also had his secrets. Some were small, harmless ones - like that one time where he brought his cat to school in his (and maybe it wasn’t just one time). </p><p>While others were a bit more problematic. For example, when he smoked a cigarette in the back of an apartment complex. He found out rather quickly that he wasn’t a fan.</p><p>But then, the rest of his secrets were heavy, guarded secrets. Like his string.</p><p>With the string, came a multitude of memories he’d like to keep his. The late hours of night where he could feel the glowing warmth wrap around him, comforting him the best it can. The moments in class where he’d lose focus on everything around him, and watch the string maneuver around the classroom, twisting and twirling. The times where he’d be running to home base, chased after by one of the opponents, and just as he was to reach the plate - he’d trip.</p><p>Right over his string.</p><p>He learned to keep quiet about the strange, red string. Nobody ever spoke of it, and whenever he searched for answers online, nothing would come up. </p><p>Once, when he was a young kid, he has asked his mother about it. Her soft expression of love and adoration quickly turned pale, and her eyes were wide. </p><p>Everything about her was just panicky.</p><p>He swears that, to this day, he could still see himself in her eyes, confused and worried. She told him to never mention the string to anybody, that it was too dangerous. He nodded along, because what else was a six year old supposed to do? He had so many questions running through his mind, that he wished to ask her - but he was too scared. Her reaction to his words horrified him enough.</p><p>Later that same night, when he was trying to fall asleep - ignoring his favourite red string, he heard something he never wanted to hear. On the other side of the thin walls that his house held, he could hear his mother’s cries. She sounded like she was wailing, and a hiccup or two would find a way into her crying session. Her sobs tore his heart in half. He had never felt so guilty in his life. </p><p>He never brought up the string again after that.</p><p>And, truthfully, he thought he’d never even hear of it again.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Zak looked over at his friend, Vincent, and raised an eyebrow. Everybody was talking about a new kid, and the french teenager beside him just said the kid’s name - Darryl. What was so special about this boy, Zak wondered.<br/>
“Well? Why is he so important?” He asked, his brown eyes moving unconsciously back to his pinky. Lately, his string had been acting weird - moving way too fast for it’s usual jerky, slow movements. </p><p>“He’s in our homeroom, and our lunch. That means we’ll most likely have him in our main classes,” Vincent explained, shaking his head at Zak’s obvious lack of interest.</p><p>“So?”</p><p>Vincent sighed, slumping in his chair at Zak’s oblivious nature. Why did he even bother to tell him this? “So, we need to try to hang out with him. He might be smart, and that could really help us dude.”</p><p>Just as Zak was going to reply, the bell rang. Right after, their homeroom teacher - Mr. Woods - waltzed in, with a tall, dirty blond male following dutifully behind him.</p><p>“Alright, before I take attendance, let’s meet our newest addition to our school. Mr. Noveschosch, if you would,” He said, letting the male introduce himself to the class.</p><p>“Hi, I’m Darryl. I moved here recently from New York - the state - and really hope to have a good time here,” He greeted, his emerald green eyes discreetly searching the room whilst he spoke. Although Zak wasn’t too sure, he assumed the fellow male wasn’t nervous, as he didn’t fidget a lot.</p><p>“Zak, raise your hand. Darryl, you will be sitting beside Mr. Carder over there.” Mr. Woods stated, clearing some space on his desk - a seemingly difficult task, with the stacks of paper scattered across it and the writing utensils left haphazardly everywhere.</p><p>Zak nodded, raising his hand. He ignored the string that lifted along with the sudden rise of his hand, and smiled his signature charming smile at the boy. As the dirty blond walked closer, the classmates around them began to whisper to each other - progressively getting louder. Such an event was not unusual, as Zak’s peers tended to stop paying attention to the teacher quickly.</p><p>“He’s honestly kind of cute, don’t you think?” Zak mumbled, his eyes flickering to Vincent. Said friend snickered, glad the room was loud enough for Zak to be rendered inaudible to the rest of his classmates. If it wasn’t, he’d feel bad for the star soccer player - knowing he’d be humiliated.</p><p>Once Darryl sat down in the plastic seat, Zak held out a hand to him. “I’m Zak! It’s great to see someone new around here.”</p><p>Darryl returned the grin, grabbing the other’s hand and shaking it gently. “I’m Darryl - though you probably don’t need another introduction from me.”</p><p>Zak hummed in reply, and looked down at the boy’s desk - noting his schedule. He snatched it off the desk, scanning the paper. “You’ve got the same schedule as us - besides Tech and Calc.”</p><p>Darryl seized the paper from the dark-haired male, and as he placed it delicately back onto his desk, Zak noticed something weird. There, on the taller boy’s hand, was the familiar red string that led straight to...</p><p>“Hey, Zak - are you going to introduce me or what?” Vincent inquired, peering over his shoulder to look at Darryl, interrupting Zak’s train of thought. </p><p>“Oh, shoot- Yeah!” he replied, trying to focus on what was going on. “Darryl, this is Vincent, aka French man. Frenchie, this is Darryl, aka new kid.”</p><p>Laughing, Vincent shook hands with Darryl. The two started a conversation over Zak, talking about whatever they wanted until the short period ended with the familiar ring of the school bell.</p><p>Between them, was a very confused, and slightly terrified, boy.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>During lunch, Zak was still thinking about what he had seen  - and continued to see. He was getting more and more confused as time went on, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.</p><p>“So, are you going to the game Friday?” Vincent wondered, glancing towards their new friend. </p><p>Darryl quietly thought to himself, casting his gaze towards the ceiling, and after a few more seconds, nodded. “Sure, I’ll need a ride though.”</p><p>“I can pick you up,” Vincent stated, pushing his glasses up. </p><p>“I have to stay after school to practice a bit, but I’ll see you guys there.” Zak added, knowing for a fact he’d have trouble during the big game. If he couldn’t go back to focusing on what was happening in the present soon, he’d be panicking later on.</p><p>“Why so worried, Skep?” The brunet questioned, his light brown eyes examining the fellow male’s expression.</p><p>“I’m not worried - just.. Confused?” He said, careful with his words - although he himself wasn’t sure how he felt. The junior was, undeniably, distracted by his thoughts.</p><p>“By what?” Darryl - one of Zak’s main causes for his confusion - asked innocently.</p><p>At this, Zak merely looked at Darryl, watching his green eyes etched with confusion intently. He tried to find any reasons to not trust him, but couldn’t find a single one. </p><p>“How about I tell you guys later?” He suggested, not too keen on explaining in such a public place.</p><p>“Sure,” Vincenet agreed, shrugging.</p><p>Really though, they should’ve pushed him to let them know then. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Waiting. </p><p>That was something many hated. Zak was definitely part of the majority that despised waiting.</p><p>Tapping his foot anxiously, he thought over the outcomes that could happen for the millionth time that day. He could, for one, chicken out and say he got sick or something. </p><p>Or, he could tell the truth and watch them get angry at him for hiding such a big thing. Maybe they’d tell others about his string, saying it’s fake and that he likes to get attention. Or even worse, rumours, everyone’s worst nightmare.</p><p>Or he could lie, like he initially planned to do. But lying was never his strong suit, something he let his friends be better at. He was always an honest teenager, never one to lie about the truth. He could tell half truths, sure, but any more than that and he’d get too scared.</p><p>So how would he even lie? Would he say he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of his ‘crush’, and that’s why he was nervous?</p><p>Before he could continue to plan for the inevitable confrontation - which he should’ve done way earlier - a knock was heard in the small space. He gulped, nervous for what was to come. </p><p>He gave a shakey, “Come in.”</p><p>Right on cue, Darryl and Vincent came in. As soon as they saw Zak’s fearful expression, the smiles on their faces fell.</p><p>“Listen, before I say anything - promise me you guys won’t leave me.” He rushed to say, looking at them both in the eyes with an uneasy intensity. </p><p>“Zak, of course I wouldn’t. I’m always going to be here for you,” Vincent states, confusion written all over his face. He sat down beside the male, turning his body so he could face him.<br/>
Nodding, and giving a small “thank you” to Vincent, Zak glanced at Darryl. He could see how serious the fellow student was.</p><p>“I may not have known you for long, but I promise, I can be trusted.” He says, sitting down in front of Zak. He made sure to look at the younger, knowing he needs to have his entire attention.</p><p>Taking a deep breath, the darker haired male looked down at his hands before squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He clasped them together, tightening his grip a bit. He followed the string (stupidstupidstupid) and opened his eyes to stare at Darryl’s hand, realising just how short the string was. Tied carefully around their pinkies, the string connected them - and Zak was left in his thoughts, bewildered. </p><p>He returned back to his own hands, and inhaled a shallow breath once more. </p><p>“I have something only I can see..” He trailed off, trying to think of how to say it. “It’s a string. It’s tied around my pinky and it- it’s attached to another person’s pinky.” </p><p>Vincent sucked in a breath, straightening up instantly upon hearing this. Darryl looked even more confused than ever, yet vigilantly watched Zak closely regardless.</p><p>“Zak, do you know what that string means?” Vincent questioned, trying his best not to jump out of his chair and start interrogating the fellow teenager.</p><p>“No, I don’t.” </p><p>Vincent winced, and glanced towards Darryl, hoping he at least knew. All he got in response to his look was a guilty shake of his head, meaning Darryl, too, didn’t know.</p><p>“Guys, he-” He paused, trying not to get upset about this as he sucked in a breath. “He has a soulmate, someone meant for him.”</p><p>Zak furrowed his eyebrows, and said, “I don’t see how that’s a bad thing, Vince.”</p><p>Vincent looked down at his lap, biting his lip whilst holding back from reaching over and hugging his best friend. Darryl watched the scene before him with bated breath, deciding to keep his mouth shut for the time being.</p><p>“When someone has a string, it means they have a soulmate. But-” His eyes were welling up with tears, and he brought a hand up to rub his eyes, trying to get rid of the tears. “But that means they die early on in life, usually before 20.”</p><p>“What- Wait, Vince, what does that mean? What do you mean?” Zak asked, his head snapping up to look at the French man. Darryl leaned closer to them, not entirely believing what he had just heard.</p><p>“Vincent, please tell us,” Darryl begged, terrified for his new friend.</p><p>“Zak- You’re going to die before you can even turn 20, that’s what I mean. And-” </p><p>“And?” The junior interrupted, knowing he needed to know more, a strange sense of intrigue overriding his fear. </p><p>“Your soulmate, the person your string connects to, can’t see the string.” </p><p>Zak’s breath hitched in his throat, and he sat back in his chair, his thoughts not running but rather in a loop.</p><p>He was going to die.</p>
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